Isolation
by Jenny70529
Summary: A romantic weekend away turns into a nightmare. Sandle.
1. Sunday

_Author's Notes: A very new genre of fiction writing for me, so it's probably a little shaky. With that in mind, please let me know what you think!!! No beta, all mistakes are mine. _

_Jenny_

**Isolation:**

No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't escape the bitter chill. What had started as a pleasant vacation away had somehow turned into the getaway from hell, and there was nothing either could do to rectify the situation before things inevitably got worse.

When they arrived at the cabin, it had been a warm 70-degree day, with a bright shining sun and a warm southern breeze. They had unpacked their bags and went for a walk around the serene lake, only slightly aware and concerned over the lack of other guests. Of course, early spring was a break in tourism, the winter visitors had returned home and the lake's water was still too cool to attract summer visitors. The awkward weather was probably the sole reason they had gotten such a good rate.

They had been searching for a romantic getaway for months, but all wooded cabins were outrageously expensive, and the thought of a big-city vacation sounded about as appealing as actually working. What both Greg Sanders and Sara Sidle craved were six nights and seven days alone, without cell phones, visitors, and fingerprint powder.

And at first glance, their secluded cabin met all of their needs: isolation, quiet, and romantic. Unfortunately, things wouldn't prove to work quite that easily. In Sara's case, things rarely worked as easily as planned, and in Greg's, the romantic rendezvous with his girlfriend was almost too good to be true. In any event, by the end of their first night, both had wished they had stayed in Nevada. And unfortunately for the two campers, things would only get worse.

_Sunday_

"Come on Sara, we don't have to unpack right away, the suitcases will still be here when we get back. It's beautiful outside; don't you want to check out the rest of the property?" Greg complained, standing in the doorway as he watched his girlfriend unzip her purple suitcase, "It won't kill you to relax a bit and just have some fun."

"We may as well do it now, before we get too comfortable and forget. Besides, after a walk, we'll probably want to shower, and we can't do that if all of our clothes are still packed." Sara countered, "It will only take a few minutes, there's no need to rush…we'll be here for a week, which gives us plenty of time for exploring."

Greg sighed, hoisting his own suitcase onto the maple dresser, "Okay, okay, you win. But let's speed it up, okay? I want to get some time to test out the lake before it gets dark."

"Are you serious?" Sara asked, stopping her own unpacking to stare incredulously at her boyfriend, "The water's probably damn near 60 degrees, you can't possibly be thinking about swimming." Her suspicions were confirmed as Greg retrieved a red and orange swimsuit from his suitcase, "You're serious."

"As a heart attack." Greg replied, smiling as he watched Sara's eyebrows rise slightly, "What? We're spending a week on a lake, we can't go back to Vegas without sampling all that this place has to offer."

Sara shook her head, tucking her socks into a drawer, replying sarcastically, "And when we have to leave early because you've caught pneumonia?"

"That's an old wives tale." Greg replied with a smirk, "No one's twisting your arm to join me, calm down."

"I'm calm." Sara retorted, placing her folded shorts into the drawer, repeating quietly, "I'm calm."

Greg zipped his empty suitcase, tossing it onto the closet floor before falling back into the bed, "How about we blow off exploring and test out the bed?"

"Or not." Sara retorted, closing the bottom dresser drawer before closing her suitcase and placing it on top of Greg's, "There's plenty of time for that too, but only a few hours of sunlight left."

Greg held out his hand, and Sara grabbed it, taking a step back and pulling on his arm to bring him to his feet. Instead, he pulled back, sending her toppling on top of him, laughing as he rolled over, pinning her beneath him as his lips found hers. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck as she hungrily reciprocated, moaning softly and opening her eyes once more as he paused. Gazing into his deep eyes, she shook her head, "If we start this, we're unlike to stop."

"And that would be a bad thing?"

"No." Sara replied, her lips meeting his once more, greedily accepting what he had to offer. After a few passionate moments, she turned her head to the side, "You said you wanted to go for a walk."

"I do." Greg replied with disappointment, reluctantly pushing himself to his feet, "Raincheck?"

"Oh definitely." Sara purred, standing and giving him another quick kiss before stepping into her hiking boots, squatting to fasten the laces, "You won't escape that easily, Mister Sanders."

"Now that's what I like to hear." Greg replied softly, his hand lightly tracing up her back, causing a shiver to run down her spine. Spurred on by her smile, he let his hand come to rest right above her waistband, "Ever had sex in the woods?"

"Once, but the sticks and bugs really kill the mood." Sara replied over her shoulder, walking away from her enamored boyfriend towards the bathroom, where she had already put away her brush and elastic for her hair.

Greg watched as she pulled her hair into a ponytail, moaning softly, "You have no idea what you do to me."

Sara's only response was laughter as she brushed past him, pecking him gently on the cheek, "Come on, the lake is waiting for us."

He watched her disappear outside, shaking his head lightly. He was wrong. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and she enjoyed every single minute of it.

An hour later, their cabin was nowhere in sight as they navigated the thick forest, searching for boat rental cabin that the brochure had claimed was in the near vicinity of the cabin. So far, they had seen two snakes, countless bugs, and endless brush, but no boat facility, and both were ready to give up.

Sara stifled a yawn, pausing to scratch behind her knee, which had started to swell from the bite of whatever insect had gotten her. Rubbing her tired eyes, she complained softly, "Let's just head back, okay? I'm tired, sweaty, and itchy…we can rent a boat tomorrow. I'm just ready to go back to the cabin and veg for awhile."

"Okay," Greg sighed, "I guess you're right. At this rate, by the time we find the place, it will be too late to go out on the lake anyway."

Sara nodded tiredly, squeezing his hand as they started back on the path they had just traveled, "I promise we'll come back tomorrow."

"I know." Greg replied, falling step in step with Sara as they lapsed into a comfortable silence. They had only been walking for a few minutes when Greg felt a chill run up his spine, the hair on his arms standing on end as his footsteps stopped and he turned back around to peer behind him. He could feel someone's eyes on him, although he was certain there was no one else anywhere near them. He slowly scrutinized each tree within view, trying to pinpoint where exactly anyone could, or would, be hiding. He knew someone was out there, he could feel their presence in the air. And if being a criminal investigator had taught him anything, it was that danger could be lurking anywhere at any time.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked. She had finally realized she had gained some distance on her boyfriend, and was now backtracking towards him, concerned by his serious gaze, "Greg, baby?"

Greg shook his head, trembling slightly as a cold wind blew through him, his uneasiness growing, "I thought I heard something…it's nothing, lets just get back to the cabin."

"Don't worry; I haven't seen anyone all day. Your mind is probably just playing tricks on you," Sara replied, squeezing Greg's hand, "The silence can do that to you, especially when you're used to working around death all the time."

Greg shrugged, glancing around the area once more, "I guess you're right. I'm probably just overreacting."

"I know you are," Sara replied, kissing his cheek lightly, "Let's get back to the cabin, whip up some dinner, and enjoy our first night alone together in weeks."

With a heavy sigh, Greg allowed Sara to lead him back towards their cabin, unable to shake off the uneasiness and apprehension filling his stomach, causing his blood to run cold. Something was wrong, someone was out there. And as much as he tried to ignore he, he couldn't help but feel that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

--

Sara awoke with a start, drenched with sweat, although she was violently shaking from the cold chill in the air. Sitting up, she first noticed the open window, then the fact that she could see her own breath. While it was still early in the year, the forecast hadn't predicted anything that would come close to being cold enough to see your own breath. Shivering, she walked to the window, closing and latching it, all too aware of the suffocating sensation of fear. She couldn't help but wonder if someone had entered through the window, if they were still in the cabin, if they were watching her right now, waiting to kill her. She knew it was unreasonable, but for some reason beyond rational thought, she was scared to death.

Looking back towards the bed, she called Greg's name softly, her voice trembling uncharacteristically as she failed to rouse him. Deciding her paranoia wasn't enough of a warrant to disturb him, she decided to do the one thing she always verbally discouraged female horror movie characters from doing. In the darkness, she opened the bedroom door and ventured into the living room, holding her breath in anticipation and fear.

She had no idea that her actions would set forth a chain of events that were not only terrifying, but unimaginable to her scientific brain.

_TBC _


	2. Monday

_Author's Notes: Thanks for the feedback from the first chapter, hope you enjoy this one. I love feedback. :D _

_Jenny _

**Chapter Two: **

_Monday_

Greg would never be able to forget the sound of Sara's terrified screams.

By the time he had stumbled out of bed and towards the door, the screams had died and he was left with and eerie silence. Stepping from the bedroom to the living room, he could have sworn the temperature had dropped 30 degrees. His arms broke out in goose bumps and his arm hair stood on end as a chill passed through him, his teeth chattering slightly.

"Sara?" He called out, fumbling for a light switch, "Sara, are you okay? Sara!"

He was met with silence as he desperately tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness, the light switch not working, "Sara? This isn't funny! Answer me!"

He moved towards the center of the room, shivering as it became even colder, his breath visible even in the darkness of the cabin room. He listened for a moment, only able to hear his own breathing, before calling out for his girlfriend once more.

He glanced in the direction of the windows, not noticing anything out of the ordinary, then towards the closed oak door. People didn't just disappear, and there was no sign of foul play. He looked around nervously once more, wondering if this was some sort of a sick joke, dread chilling his bones even further as he realized that Sara didn't play jokes like these.

"Sara?" Greg called out again, his voice rising with a hint of panic as he finally reached the other side of the room, and flipping the light switch, cursing when the darkness wasn't lifted. The lights had been working fine earlier, how could they not be working now, only a few hours later?

He maneuvered towards the bedroom once more, clumsily feeling the dresser for the flashlight he knew he had left there. It took a few minutes to find it, but once his hand contacted the cold metal, a wave of relief rushed through him. With light, he could figure out what the hell was going on. Gripping the cold dark metal he anxiously pushed the rubber button, his curse echoing through the cabin when nothing happened. He jammed his thumb into the button several more times, before hitting the flashlight against the dresser, hoping the action would make something happen. Instead, he remained in darkness as he tried in vain to find something to shine light in the cabin, still calling out his girlfriend's name as he started to panic.

He rummaged blindly on the dresser until finding his cell phone. While it wouldn't create a lot of light, it would be better than nothing. He flipped it open, cursing loudly when nothing happened. The battery couldn't be dead; he had charged it on the way up.

Something was going on, and whatever it was, it definitely gave him an uneasy feeling. He was about to search for a candle when he felt a presence behind him. Whipping around, he was met with pure darkness, his breath the only thing visible to his wide eyes. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he slowly turned back around, silently berating himself for being so jumpy. There had to be a logical explanation for this, if science had taught him anything, it was that there was always a logical explanation for the unordinary and extraordinary.

He had almost succeeded in calming himself down when he felt two strong arms wrap around him from behind, tightly squeezing the breath out of his small frame. Frantically, he clawed at his chest, where he could feel his muscles constricting, and once he realized there was nothing actually touching him, the little amount of air he had left in his chest evaporated with a panicked wheeze. He felt himself growing weaker, silver specks dancing before his eyes.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to escape from his invisible captor, his heart pounding wildly as his lungs frantically yearned for air. He felt the blood rush in his ears, his vision now plagued with static fuzz, reminding him of a television with no reception. His body ached for salvation as his life flashed before his eyes. This was it; this was how he was going to die.

He started to slip out of consciousness, his knees growing wobbly and weak as his head grew heavy, plagued by the deafening roar of his own blood pumping. The room felt cold and strange to him, and he said a quick prayer that the pain in his chest would end. Just as he hit the floor, he was released.

He took in a deep gulp of air, coughing as it filled his lungs, his hands shaking as they made their way to his chest, then his face, then his hair. He was warm. He was alive. He was free.

Scrambling to his feet, he rushed into the living room, relieved to find that the room didn't feel nearly as cold as it had moments before. He reached for the light switch, surprised when a pale yellow light flooded the room at the simple movement. Had he imagined the whole thing? The chill was gone, the lights were working, the panic he had been feeling only moments ago had evaporated. Was this just a figment of his overactive imagination?

His racing thoughts came to a halt as he spotted Sara laying face down on the middle of the living room floor. Rushing to her side, Greg moved her dark brown hair from her face, calling her name urgently. When he didn't get an answer, his hand immediately moved for her neck, checking for a pulse. It only took seconds to determine a strong, healthy pulse, and with a relieved sigh, he lifted her into his arms, placing her gently on the couch as he tried to rouse her.

He was just about to give up on waking the still brunette, when he heard a noise coming from outside of the cabin, sounding vaguely like a child's laughter. Moving towards the front door, he called out, "Who's there?"

He was rewarded with silence, and with a paranoid peek through the curtain, he assumed his mind had been playing tricks on him. He turned to walk back towards the couch, when he heard the laughter again, this time louder, sounding a bit less childish and a bit more evil. Clenching his fists together, he took a step back towards the door, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

He had just reached out to touch the knob, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning around with a loud shout, he came face to face with his startled girlfriend.

"What are you doing, Greg? You can't go outside in your underwear."

"What?" Greg asked, "Didn't you hear that noise?"

Sara shook her head, giving Greg a puzzled look, "What are you talking about? Baby, you must have been dreaming."

"No!" Greg insisted, "I heard you scream, I got out of bed and the lights weren't working, you were laying on the floor, there were these strange noises-"

"On the floor?" Sara retorted softly, "Greg, baby, I fell asleep on the couch last night. You must have had a bad dream."

"I wasn't dreaming." Greg muttered, staring at Sara's face intently, "And you didn't sleep on the couch last night, we went to bed together, remember? Don't you remember laying in bed, talking about everything we were going to do this week? Laughing about how if Grissom were here, he'd be in the woods the entire time, collecting bugs?"

Sara smiled, caressing Greg's cheek with her hand, "Now you know you were dreaming...when have we ever talked about Grissom in bed together?"

Sara turned and walked back towards the couch, leaving Greg standing by the door, trying to process what had just transpired. He had to make her realize that what had happened was real, not some sort of twisted dream. They had to get out of this cabin, the sooner, the better.

--

"Absolutely not!" Sara exclaimed, "We aren't going to go back to Vegas early because you have the jitters about being out here in the woods. Even if it wasn't a dream, it's not some sort of paranormal activity."

"It's not jitters, Sara, there's something going on, and you know it!" Greg retorted, "You said it yourself, you saw something in the room, a reflection in the mirror that wasn't actually there, you felt how cold it got."

"I don't believe in ghost stories, Greg." Sara replied, walking from the kitchen table towards the bedroom door, "Our imaginations got away from us, that's all. We're in the middle of nowhere, the wind could have blown the window open, and the power could have been off for a number of reasons. I think you just blew it all out of proportion."

"And the reason you were passed out on the living room floor?" Greg countered, following her to the door, but not inside the room, "You can't tell me that's normal."

Sara shrugged, "I don't know. I could have sworn I remembered falling asleep there. It _was_ a freaky night, but I'm not ready to throw in the towel just yet. I thought you wanted to go swimming? Rent a boat? Take a hike? Take romantic moonlight walk around the lake?"

"I did...I do." Greg replied with a sigh, "But this place really gives me the creeps. Something's out there, and I don't think it wants us here."

Sara rolled her eyes, slipping on her hiking boots, "You're insane. There are no such things as ghosts, and if there were, they wouldn't be hiding out here in the woods trying to kill you. You've been watching too many scary movies, Greggo. Now stop being silly, come in here, and get dressed."

"That's easy for you to say." Greg grumbled, "I'm telling you, if something else freaky happens, I'm leaving, whether you come or not."

Stifling a laugh at Greg's melodramatic comment, Sara nodded in agreement, tossing him the key to the cabin, "Come on, let's go look for the boat place."

With a worried look around the cabin, Greg reluctantly agreed, following her out the front door and locking up behind them, before slipping the key into his pocket. As much as he wanted to follow Sara's logical reasoning, he couldn't shake the ominous feeling that something bad was going to happen.

--

"Boat rental houses don't just appear out of thin air." Sara snapped, rolling her eyes impatiently, "Stop being so paranoid."

"I'm telling you, Sara, this is the exact way we came yesterday, and this building _wasn't _here!" Greg insisted, "And you know it!"

Sara shook her head, reaching into her pocket for the voucher the cabin owners had given her, "There's a lot of trees, woods, everything out here. It all looks the same. We must have gotten off the path yesterday."

"No-"

"Buildings don't just materialize from nothing, Greg." Sara replied, "Let's just do this, okay? I don't want to argue with you."

"I don't want to argue with you either." Greg replied, a frown on his face. It wasn't often that he and Sara bickered, and as he watched her speak to the rental crew, he couldn't help but remember why. While her smile and words to the strangers were friendly, her posture was still rigid and tense, and he knew this argument was far from over. Why couldn't she just trust him, though? Something strange was going on, and she _had_ to see it too...so why wasn't she nearly as worried as he was?

It wasn't like he believed the boogeyman was out to get him, but denying that anything out of the ordinary was happening either made her the queen of denial or the most oblivious person in the world. He knew she had a scientific mind, he did too, but sometimes you couldn't discredit the unlikely.

--

"It's not cold at all!" Greg laughed, treading water as he tried to coax Sara into the water, "Come on, don't be such a spoilsport."

The fear and paranoia of earlier had vanished the moment they had gotten onto the water. The lake was serene and calming, and it seemed as if both of their frustrations had vanished as soon as they had stepped off land.

Sara reached into the ice chest, opening a wine cooler and taking a sip before shaking her head vehemently, "Your lips are turning blue, Greg, it's definitely cold."

"But you get used to it real fast." Greg protested, "Come on!"

Sara took another swig of the cold liquid, letting it sit in her mouth for a moment before swallowing it down, a smile on her lips, "At least I know you won't be propositioning me for sex...at this rate, your testicles must have crawled back up in your body."

Greg rolled his eyes, splashing at the rowboat, "Haha, very funny."

"I'd say they're probably up somewhere around your stomach right about now." Sara teased, taking another sip from the bottle before taking off her shirt to reveal a swimsuit, "I'll think about it."

Greg shivered, moving to float on his back as he replied, "Actually, they're about up to my throat. Its cold, but I think you'll enjoy it. Just picture that case we were working a few weeks ago, when it was like 95 degrees, that warms you right up."

Rolling her eyes, Sara finished off the bottle, setting it on the floor of the boat before sliding off her shorts, "Fine, you win, but when I catch pneumonia, you'll have to nurse me back to health."

"Well, nursing beautiful women to health is my specialty." Greg replied, wrapping his arms around her as she entered the lake, shrieking slightly from the cold water contacting her warm skin.

She was about to protest and insist on moving back into the boat when his lips met hers, his arms drawing her close as his mouth greedily pressed against hers, his breath hot against her cold face. She wrapped her legs around him, smiling softly as their lips broke apart, "Oh, I think this is enough to keep me warm."

"Is that so, Miss Sidle? I wouldn't want you to get cold." Greg whispered huskily, his hands finding their way to her back as she wrapped her arms around him, "Oh Sara, I love you."

Sara's response was cut off by a scream as she was pulled off of her boyfriend, being forced down into the cold, dark water, barely able to gasp for a breath as her head was forced down. Struggling against whatever had taken hold of her body, she frantically tried to reach the surface, her lungs burning with desire for oxygen. Her head barely broke the surface as she inhaled deeply before being dragged beneath the surface once more, still unable to escape the clutches of her captor. She could hear Greg's screams in the distance, and as her body grew tired of fighting, she couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't trying to save her.

_TBC_


	3. Monday 2

_Author's Notes: I am thoroughly ashamed I left this waiting so long. As hard as I try, real life seems to love stopping me from writing. Thankfully, I've passed two major hurdles in my life: Spring finals and vacation time. Two weeks until the summer semester starts, and I have made it my goal to finish this by that point. Feedback is a good way to help me achieve this. Lol. I love all comments, good and bad. Well, I prefer good, but I'll take what I can get. Hopefully someone out there is still reading this!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Three:**

"_Oh Sara, I love you."_

Sara shook her head violently, wrenching herself out of Greg's arms, "What the hell is going on here?"

"What are you talking about?" Greg asked, moving closer towards his trembling girlfriend, "Sara? What's wrong?"

Sara kicked her feet violently, putting a bit of distance between her and Greg as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She wasn't imagining things, she knew something had just pulled her under the water and nearly drowned her. So how did she wind up back in Greg's arms, as if nothing had happened?

"The water, the hands?" Sara breathed out, her voice shaking despite her attempts to keep herself calm, "What happened?"

Raising his hands in protest, Greg retorted, "Okay, I get it, you don't want to fool around in the lake. It was worth a try, right?"

He laughed softly, swimming closer to Sara, "Relax, have some fun. I know its cold, but you'll get used to it."

He reached out to touch her, but Sara pulled away once more, paddling quickly to the boat. She _couldn't_ have imagined the attack on her life. Her hair was wet, her heart was racing, her eyes and throat burned from the water they had been assaulted with. This was real, it had to have happened. People don't just imagine a near-death experience. And Greg had been right there with her. How could he be so calm? Didn't he care that something, someone, had tried to drown her?

"Come on, Sara, what's wrong? I know I may have been exaggerating a bit when I said it wasn't _that_ cold in the water, but are you really going to give me the silent treatment now?" Greg wondered, puzzled by Sara's odd behavior.

Sara had a bit of a temper at times, but she wasn't one to resort to childish revenge and petty games to get her way. Besides, they had been having a good time until her wild mood swing. Since when was making out such a bad thing? They did it all the time. Why was she behaving this way? Wasn't she the one who insisted they stay at the cabin and come out to enjoy the scenery? The more he thought of it, the more irritated he became. This _was_ her idea, and _she_ was the one who had given him the green light to continue after kissing her. To change her mind and react so coldly was not only conflicted with her previous actions, but was also insulting, not to mention, infuriating.

"If that's how you want to be, I'll meet you back at the cabin." Greg retorted, surprised by the anger in his own voice. It wasn't too often that he lost his temper, and certainly never over something this trivial. Normally, the hurt and sad look that consequently crossed his girlfriend's face would have been enough to make him feel remorseful and apologize, but this time it just seemed to fuel the fire burning inside of him.

Shooting her the nastiest look he could muster, he spat, "And if you're going to go into this long pity-party-saga, you may as well not even come inside."

In an angry huff, he dove beneath the icy water, fueled by some unknown, unprecedented anger that seemed to build beneath the surface. By the time he reached the shore, he was twice as angry, although unable to remember why he had gotten mad in the first place. All he knew was that the root of his problem was Sara, and the only way to curb the blood boiling in his veins would be to eradicate the source of his problems: his stubborn brunette girlfriend.

--

Sara climbed into the boat, both confused and saddened by Greg's actions. There was no denying she had been attacked, there were dark red welts on her legs from where she had scraped the lake's bottom in a vain attempt to escape. She was drenched to the bone, and trembling like a leaf. If she hadn't been pulled beneath the surface, she'd still have dry hair and she'd be in romantic bliss, as she usually was after one of Greg's kisses.

There had to be a logical reason for this, but what? How could something happen and Greg not even realize it? Logically, she'd have to reason that it didn't happen at all, that she was hallucinating. But if she was hallucinating, why was there evidence of a struggle? And if it really did happen, why didn't Greg say something, try to help, get her the hell out of the water? It couldn't have happened both ways, so what was the truth? What was going on? And how could she stop it?

Another thing that puzzled her was Greg's apparent anger at the situation. Like most guys, he was always in the mood to get frisky, irregardless of the time or place, but even if she had been hallucinating and ruined an intimate moment, did it really warrant so much hostility on his part? His words had been laced with anger, his expression dark and stormy, greatly contrasting his usual sunny disposition. She had put a stop to many romantic rendezvous in the past, what made this one so different? And why did he blow his top instead of taking the time to ask why she was so freaked out? It's not like she was a tease, or easily spooked. He should know her well enough to know there had to be a reason for her reaction.

She watched with a heavy sigh as Greg stormed up the bank of the lake and towards the cabin. What was happening to them? Greg had hit the proverbial nail on the head when he had insisted something strange was going on in these woods, and the more she reflected on it, the more she wanted to find out exactly what it was. The scientific part of her brain reassured her there had to be a logical, reasonable explanation for these occurrences, and not to fret over it; however, the adventurous part of her wanted to poke around and see what she could find.

She had paddled halfway to the dock when Greg's scream filled the forest air, sending goose bumps across her body as she picked up her speed. Maybe she wouldn't have to poke around to find something out; it seemed like whatever was out there was on a mission to find them.

--

He couldn't believe it. First Sara wigged out at the lake, and then he comes back to the cabin only to find it ransacked, their stuff strewn in every direction, all of the windows busted, with the door wide open.

He had barely made it through the threshold when Sara appeared behind him, cursing loudly as she surveyed the damage. While he agreed in her sentiment, he couldn't help but snap, "Oh, standing around and swearing will fix everything."

"What happened?" Sara responded, ignoring his comment as she made her way into the cabin, "This is insane, there's no one around for miles."

"Obviously there are people closer than we assumed." Greg responded in a dry, hardened tone, "And do I really need to explain to you what happened?"

Sara shot a glare in his direction, turning to look at the door, "Doesn't look like they forced their way in, and none of the windows are broken open, only cracked. Who else would have a key?"

"Let me get my crystal ball out and tell you." Greg retorted, kicking a couch cushion as he came across it, "Don't stand there gawking, start cleaning this mess up!"

Sara shook her head, crossing her arms around herself as she quietly inspected the room for any places a suspect could still be hiding, "We need to call the police."

"And wait 12 hours for someone to show up, take a few prints that will probably either belong to us or some punk-ass kid? We didn't have anything worth taking anyway; just get this stuff cleaned up, okay? Or do you always have to have your way?"

Sara stared at Greg, her jaw hanging open at his malicious tone, "Excuse me? I don't know what your problem is, but you need to back off. I have done _nothing_ to you, and you need to watch your tone. I'm not your kid, your slave, or someone you can bully around. I'm your girlfriend, although right now I'm not quite sure for how long."

Shaking her head with disgust, she pushed past him and into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. What a jerk! She flopped onto the bed, her body aching from the ordeal she had been through earlier, the tension and pain from her muscles and joints telling her there was no possible way she could have imagined the incident in the lake.

Greg was there, he had to have seen it. And judging by his ogre-like behavior now, he probably just didn't care. And with that in mind, Sara did something she swore she'd never do over a man…she pulled a pillow over her head and wept.

--

Although a single glass vase had been the only fragile item left unscathed by the raid on their cabin, Greg couldn't resist the urge to kick hit as hard as he could into the wall. The sound of breaking glass released a chunk of hatred from his chest, and he fell to the couch, exhausted. It would take the two of them the majority of the day to clean up this mess, provided Sara would come back and help.

He wouldn't blame her if she didn't.

He knew he was being a first-rate jerk, but even as his mind screamed at him to shut up, it was as if his mouth was speaking on its own, spewing out insults and garbage before he could even realize he was thinking it. He had seen the hurt look on her face, he had wanted to apologize, but for the life of him, he found himself unable to censor the hatred pouring out of his mouth.

He bent over to retrieve a couch cushion, quickly arranging himself into a comfortable position before closing his eyes. Even though the day wasn't even half over, he couldn't shake the overpowering desire for a quick nap. As the last residual bout of anger drained from him, he somehow knew things would be better if he could just get some more sleep.

--

Sara awoke with a start, surprised to find herself fully clothed and on top of the covers, despite the darkness surrounding her. A quick glance at the clock informed her she had been sleeping for nearly 12 hours, yet as she stood up, her body screamed at her that she needed more. She fumbled for the lamp switch; disappointed to see that Greg's side of the bed was empty and undisturbed once light flooded the room. Glancing down at her legs, she found the welts had all disappeared, and upon closer inspection, she noticed the room had been straightened up as well. Did Greg do all of this while she slept? How did he manage it without waking her up? And why on earth did he let her sleep until 11:45 pm?

She moved into the living room, thoroughly shocked to see everything back in its original place, down to picture frames and knick-knacks she had been sure were broken. And in the center of the room, curled up with a couch pillow and blanket, was a sleeping Greg, so far gone that he was beginning to drool onto the rust colored pillow in his arm.

She knelt down beside him, a soft smile on her face. Maybe he had just been having an off-morning. She was known to be excessively moody at times, everyone was now and then. To think that he expended this much time and energy to clean up the mess all on his own had to be the sweetest apologetic gesture of their relationship. Standing, she decided to let him sleep for a bit longer, after all of the effort he must have put in, he deserved it.

It wasn't until she realized the windows were all in one piece, unscathed, that she began to panic once more. Just as the realization washed through her, the lights went out and cold air began blowing across her ankles and up her legs. Doing the only thing she could think to do, she backed towards the couch, where she knew Greg was laying, calling his name softly.

Her soft whispers turned into a loud shriek, however, when she felt to icy hands grab her from behind, silencing her almost immediately as they began to close around her windpipe. As the clock chimed that it was midnight, the entire cabin began to rumble as Sara fell limply to the floor, a pale Greg standing over her with shaking hands and wild eyes.

_TBC_


	4. Tuesday

_Author's Notes: Thank you to all who reviewed, I know I missed replying to a few of you, and I'm sorry. I appreciate all feedback! Glad to see someone was still reading after such a long break between chapters. There's only a few more left after this chapter, and don't worry, I didn't leave you with a cliffie like last time. _

_Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Four:**

_Tuesday_

With a slight moan, Sara put her arm over her face, trying in vain to ignore the sound of dripping water. She whimpered softly, wanting nothing more than to return to the black abyss of sleep, and used her other arm to reach over towards Greg. Instead of flesh, however, she was met with air. As she struggled to wake up, she knew that this couldn't be right, Greg always slept on her left side.

Sara slowly blinked her eyes open, her chest aching painfully as she struggled to take in a deep breath. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, thoroughly confused despite her gradual transition into the conscious world. The last thing she remembered was being in the living room, the lights going out, hands from behind her…but she wasn't in the living room now, so it was entirely possible it was another hallucination like the one from the lake.

She tiredly reached towards her neck, surprised to find it tender and swollen. Maybe she hadn't imagined it after all. But if she had been attacked, where was she? As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she realized she was staring at the back of the front seat of Greg's car. Why was she in the car? How did she get her? What was going on?

"Greg?" She called out hoarsely, pushing open the car door, "Greg?"

She tried to clear her throat, hoping in vain she'd be able to get her voice louder than a whisper. Even in the silent forest, a whisper wouldn't carry too far, much less during a rainstorm. "Greg?"

Her only response was the wind rustling through the trees and the ever-irritating sound of water droplets hitting the car's roof. It was only once she realized she was alone that she began to panic. Rising shakily to her feet, she began to scramble back towards the cabin, worried over Greg's safety. Whatever had attacked her could have gotten Greg as well, and although she wasn't quite sure what she was facing, she knew it was vitally important to not only save Greg, but for the two of them to stick together in order to make it out unharmed.

She let out a loud string of expletives as she slipped in the slick mud, coming down hard on her ankle. Angry not only over being wet, but now muddy, Sara growled and tried to return to a standing position, only to fall once more as searing pain shot through her ankle and up her leg. She loudly screamed Greg's name once more, only to be rewarded with an increase in rainfall as thunder boomed overhead. Great, now she was stuck here, prey to whatever it was that was tormenting them. As her tired brain tried to formulate a plan for escape, she made a mental note never to go on vacation again. As stressful as her job was, it was a walk in the park compared to this.

--

Greg _knew_ had hadn't been imagining the events of the previous night. When he combined that with the bizarre events presently going on, he could only feel that it was just a matter of time before the attacks went from scary to lethal.

While he had only felt hands grasping him the night before, he could actually see the shadows of something strangling Sara before his very eyes. Still, he had been unable to move, to react, until the shadow had disappeared and Sara had fallen to the floor. If something else, worse, happened to her, he'd never be able to forgive himself. If he hadn't been so stubborn and angry earlier…if he had only been able to react faster…if he had insisted they leave after the first bizarre experience, things would have been alright. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists as he tried to remain calm. Wondering what could have been done wouldn't fix anything; he just had to get them out of this mess while he still could.

As thunder boomed outside of the dark cabin, he knew he had to act fast. The path to the cabin had been made of dirt, and the longer it rained, the more likely it was that they'd get stuck in the mud and be forced to spend another night in the dreaded cabin. He finally found his keys and cell phone, and as he decided nothing else was worth saving, he sprinted back towards the door, hoping it wouldn't be too wet to escape.

He didn't realize anything was wrong until he reached the front door. It was only once the door wouldn't budge that he felt the tell-tale coldness in the air, seeing little ice crystals form as he panted, his breath coming more and more rapid as he began to panic. He could feel something closing in on him, breathing on his neck as he struggled to maneuver the wooden door. He felt icy fingers brush against his arms, and he bit back a terrified scream.

Instead, he forcefully pulled away, using all of he strength he had left to ram into the window, relieved to feel the warm, wet air against his face as he landed on the wooden porch, ignoring the sting of glass digging into his face and arms. He could deal with the cuts later; right now he just had to get as far away from this place as possible.

He had made it halfway to the car when he tripped over something in the muddy darkness, sending him face down in the mud.

"What the hell?" Greg shouted, wiping his face as best as he could, spitting to get the nasty taste from his mouth, "Who's there?"

"It's me." Sara's voice trembled, "Greg?"

"Yeah," Greg replied, "What are you doing on the ground? We need to get out of here, something's in there, it's after us."

"I know…I came to look for you….I hurt myself." Sara replied, her voice laced with pain as she shuddered, "I think my ankle's broken."

Reaching out to her, his easily found her injured ankle, wincing as he could feel the separation of her bones, "That's quite likely." He replied, standing and reaching out to her in the darkness, "Take my hand, and don't put any weight on it, I'll get us back to the car."

He pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm securely around her shivering body, "You should have stayed in the car, love."

"Well, I know that now, but then I had no way of knowing how I got there or if you were even going to come back for me." Sara spat bitterly, "Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't do anyway; you're neither my father nor my boss."

Greg rolled his eyes, carefully balancing Sara before opening the car door, "Get in"

Before she could respond, he helped her sit and shut the door, moving around to the other side of the car. Sara had to be the most stubborn person in the world. He knew it wasn't unlike her to lash out while she was in pain, but at the moment he really wasn't in the mood for her sarcasm. They had more important things to do than to argue about his tone or word choice, in case she had forgotten, something had tried several times to _kill_ them in the last two days.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he said a quick prayer that they wouldn't be bogged down in mud. The rain was now pounding harder than he had ever witnessed before in his lifetime, which did not bode well for the two of them.

As he cranked the engine, however, he realized that mud would be the least of their problems.

"Um, it's dead." Greg stammered, feeling lightheaded as the implications of his words sunk into his brain. The car wouldn't start, they weren't going anywhere. They'd either have to wait it out until the rain stopped and take a look under the hood, or they'd have to walk. While he was leaning more towards walking rather than waiting, he knew Sara wouldn't be up for it on her broken ankle, and with the rain and mud, it would be nearly impossible to commandeer the whole thing on his own.

Sara shot Greg a nasty look, knowing she was taking her own pain and frustration out on Greg, who didn't deserve it, but found it impossible to stop herself, "Oh, gee, I didn't realize that when it _didn't start_. Thanks for your _useful_ knowledge, as usual."

"Look," Greg snapped, "I know you're not in the best of moods, neither am I, but fighting really won't help things, will it?"

Sara crossed her arms, leaning against the seat with a scowl on her face, refusing to meet his eyes or acknowledge his statement. With a sigh, Greg tried to crank the car again. At least with the silent treatment, he wouldn't have to listen to her complaints. He tried several more times to get the engine started, growing irritated when he made no progress. The car had been in perfect working condition before their trip to the cabin, he had never had any trouble with his car, why would it start acting up now?

Glancing nervously towards the cabin, he shook his head slightly. It had to be whatever was trying to scare them out of the cabin, out of the woods. But why would it tamper with the one thing that could get them away? Unless, of course, its goal was to kill them…if that was the case, it probably wouldn't matter what they tried to do, they'd never make it out in one piece.

Glancing towards his silent girlfriend, he started to rethink his opinion on the silent treatment. Alone in the woods, and now without Sara's company, he felt more alone than he had ever felt in his entire life.

"So do we take our chances out here, or do we go back in there?" Greg asked his companion quietly, motioning towards the cabin, "Because I think that either way, we're probably screwed."

Sara shrugged, hugging her arms tightly around her aching body, "I'm not in a real big hurry to go back into that cabin, nothing good ever comes of it."

"Agreed."

"We should walk." Sara suggested after a moment of silence, "With my foot, we won't be able to move fast, but at least we'll be getting somewhere. I mean, even if we wait for daylight and the rain to stop, we can't fix the car without any tools, can we?"

Greg shrugged, "If we can even figure out what's wrong with it…"

"So we walk?"

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Greg asked, trying to make out her face in the black darkness, but failing. "I don't want you to push yourself too hard and make your injuries worse."

With a heavy sigh, Sara shrugged, "I have some bandages in the trunk, and we can wrap it and hope we find some help before too much time passes. We really don't have any other choices right now."

"You're right." Greg muttered, reaching for the door handle, "I'll go get the bandages, you sit tight until I get back."

Greg turned, pulling on the handle and pushing on the door, only to find it wouldn't budge. Checking to make sure it was unlocked, he tried again, this time putting his shoulder into the movement. Still, the door remained securely shut. Closing his eyes tightly, he took a deep calming breath before turning to Sara, asking in what he hoped wasn't a panicked tone, "Can you open your door?"

Dread filled Sara as she reached for the door handle, knowing what the answer would be before she even tried. After several failed attempts, she muttered softly, "No."

"Great, we're stuck. Again."

_TBC _


End file.
